Snape's Task
by fire-forged
Summary: This takes place at the end of GOF and looks at what happens to Snape as he goes to be reinstated as a DE, from Snapes P.O.V. Not slash. Now finished! Please R&R!
1. Words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or plot points. The quote at the beginning is also (obviously) not mine. I make no money out of this.

Chapter 1

"… _you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready…if you are prepared…'_

I heard the words only subconsciously, his voice drowned out by the suddenly louder thumping of my heart. Even though I had been expecting for those words the whole evening, it did not prevent my mouth from suddenly feeling dry. The barely controlled fear that I had contained within me all evening exploded into a full-blown panic. Somehow I managed to keep my face impassive, my eyes locked to the face of the speaker, only my eyes betraying to him the full intensity of the emotions I was experiencing. I knew he understood, he was the only one in the room who could, the only one in the world who knew what he was asking of me. His deep blue eyes reflected his hurt, his pain that he must put this task upon me. For although he asked my consent, it was an order; I knew, we both knew that there was no other choice. It must be done, and I must do it.

I hold onto his gaze for a while longer, communicating with the silence more than I ever could with words, for what words could describe the turmoil of my heart? This way was better, for heart communicated with heart, soul communicated with soul without the interference of lowly wisps of breath.

His eyes speak to me a deeper message than the words he has said. They speak to me of understanding, of love, and greatest of all a trust and belief that was so strong, so unshakeable that it filled my very veins with strength and determination.

Gathering my courage from that face, I nod my head briefly in acknowledgment and consent, and without another word or glance turn towards the door and the dark night outside.

A/N: So, do you like it? I've been wanting to write a Snape angst fic for a long time, and I kind of like the way this turned out. This is only the first chapter, and I do intend to write more, but I have no idea when that will happen, so till then this can be a stand-alone. Do review, I'd love to know what you think!


	2. Preparations

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or plot points. I make no money out of this.

Chapter 2 – Preparations

I can feel their gazes upon me as I walk out of the room, probing, questioning, accusing. They burn into my back, the silent, assessing glares, and I can hear their unvoiced suspicions, their unspoken speculations. They are wondering what task has fallen to me. They are wondering what task is so secret, so dangerous that even Dumbledore seems afraid to give to me. They are wondering what is causing my arms to tremble, my face to turn paler, my stride to falter. Oh if only they knew, they would not now throw these hostile looks at me.

But I am mistaken there. Even if they did know my burden, they would still hate me. Knowledge alone does not give rise to understanding, to trust. I fear I shall never receive that, no matter what I do for them.

For to them I am merely a surly and mean teacher, who delights in taking points off little children. Even worse, I am an ex-death eater and they will never believe that I have really changed, that I am on their side now, fighting against my former companions. They are yet children, seeing the world in black and white, a fight between the noble, heroic good and the cruel and devious evil. They do not recognize the grey shade in between, the area in which I dwell.

Never mind. Why should it matter to me? Why should I care that their eyes always exclude me, always doubt me. After all, I do not do this to gain popularity or favour amongst them, I do this to protect them. I care not for what they think. I am used to the dislike of others. There is but one person in the room I truly care about, and it is for him and him alone that I go to do what I go to do.

At the thought of the task ahead, fear once again starts rising inside me. It had been 13 years, 13 years in which I had been content to think that I would not have to play the part of the spy. 13 wonderful years when I could live my life simply, with no deceptions, no double roles. I had come to hope that the day would never come when I had to once again face the monster I used to call my master.

But it is dangerous to hope, for hopes are very often dashed.

I knew the second I felt the dark mark burn upon my arm that he was back. I knew at that moment that my…services…would be required. And after 13 years of freedom, I was afraid to once again look at that snake-like face, at those silted eyes filled with evil and menace. And this time it would be even more dangerous. The last time I went, I was on his side, my loyalty was true; the peril was less. But now, to walk up to the dark lord already late, coming straight from the home of his greatest enemy, with treachery in your heart and to make him believe that you were his most loyal servant…I laugh mentally at the sheer stupidity of what I was attempting to do.

Amused that I could find humour in this predicament, I keep walking until I reach the outskirts of Hogwarts. There I stop, and steel myself for what is to come. Beyond this place, I could carry none of my fears, for fears were a luxury I could not afford. From now on, all emotions had to be kept in check, for they were weaknesses that were sure to leave me exposed in front of the dark lord.

I don the long black robes of the death eaters that I had brought with me, and put on the white mask. But the mask I put on my emotions and thoughts is much more important. I throw up the shields in my eyes and put up the barriers around my heart. I force my face to be expressionless, impassive, and unreadable by outside eyes. I push aside Severus Snape, and put on the mantle of Snape, the death eater.

My preparations finally complete, I take the final steps out of Hogwarts, and apparate, leaving the great castle looming behind.

A/N: Amazingly, I did find the time to continue this quite fast. Upon looking back, I realized that the first chapter was really too short, I was hoping it would be brief and impactful but I decided that more was needed. This chapter is kind of an extension of that and also does not have any action. That will be in the next chapter when the face-off between Voldemort and Snape actually happens. So until then, do enjoy!

fire-forged


	3. Punishments

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or plot points. I make no money out of this.

Chapter 3- Punishments

The stars were faint tonight, the moon hidden behind a cloud, as if the very lights of the heaven shied away from the darkness re-born on the ground. The graveyard loomed eerily in the darkness, jutting gravestones and dried-out trees painting a haphazard picture of death and destruction. The soft wind whispered gently through the branches, swishing my black robes, as I made my way carefully through the tombstones.

I knew where they would be. The dark lord often had his meetings here. He seemed to get some perverse sense of amusement from planning his orgy of death from the grave of his father, from the place of his first murder.

I can see them ahead now, the circle of black, turned inward, focused on the sole figure in the center. My breath catches in my throat as I see him again. He looks exactly like he did 13 years ago, the same flat, white face, two slits that pass for noses. But what draws my attention is the cold red eyes, burning even stronger with hatred, anger and malice.

He notices me almost immediately, and for a moment there is shock on his face. He did not expect me back then, he had believed that I had gone over to the other side. I suppress a shudder as his eyes turn on me, as I feel the full weight of his evil. There is a deep desire in me then to simply turn away, go back to Dumbledore and tell him I had failed. But I imagine the look of unvoiced disappointment in his eyes and I force myself to move on unhesitatingly.

The other death eaters have seen me now, and they shuffle around, leaving me a clear path to the dark lord. I walk up to him as he waits there and prostate myself at his feet, kissing his robes. I hate this display, hate bowing down to him, to anyone, but I force myself through the ritual.

I remain bowed before him, aware of his scrutinizing gaze. At least this is not only a show of humility; I want to deny him the chance of using legilimency by not making any eye contact with him. The silence sits heavily on the small gathering and I resist the temptation to jump up and down a few times or make any kind of movement just to break the monotony.

"So, you have returned." The cold, silky voice finally says. "My _most loyal _servant. I had wondered what had become of you. I had such high hopes of you, you I had thought more than any of the others would come back to me. You who had risen so far above the ranks of the others. I confess myself disappointed, when I saw your face was missing from the black circle."

"My Lord…" I stammer.

"_Crucio_!" The jet of light shots out from his wand and a split second later, I feel the excruciating pain of a hundred white-hot knives twisting in my skin, burning my very flesh. It has been so long since I have felt that kind of pain, that kind of mind-numbing agony, I had forgotten how painful it really was. I clench my teeth together and refuse to let out the scream forming on my lips. I would not give in, I would not let him have the pleasure of hearing me scream, I was too proud to break before him so easily. I had to bow before him out of necessity, but I would never let him control me.

When the curse finally lifted, I was surprised to find myself on the ground, beaded sweat on my face, my breath coming in short, harsh gasps. I did not even remember falling down. I force myself back to my feet, ignoring the aches that were the natural aftermath of the curse, and once again stand bowed before him.

"I did not give you permission to speak. And what would you say to me anyway? What would you say to explain 13 long years of absence? How would you explain why you spent those 13 years under the protection of that muggle-loving fool? What reason can you possibly give me for even now arriving hours after I had summoned you?"

"My Lord," I try again, attempting to sound as subservient and deferential as I could. "I admit freely to these faults, and I will gladly accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate. But know, my lord, that throughout these long years, my heart has ever only been loyal to you, and indeed all that I have done has been in hope that you will one day rise above us again, and I will be able to serve you as faithfully and loyally as I always have."

Cold laughter rings out then. "And you expect me to believe this? Tell me, Severus, how have you helped me by serving that fool?"

Pushing down the anger that rose up like bile in my throat, I launch into my pre-prepared tale of all I had done over the last years that could prove useful to him. I tell him of the vast amounts of information I have collected about Dumbledore, about Hogwarts, about the Order of the Phoenix that would prove most useful to him. I stress the invaluable position I was in, how trusted I was of Dumbledore and the Order, how I could further his cause. Most of all I repeat my dedication and loyalty to him, and then wait with bated breath for his response. I have said all I can; I have played all my cards, now the dice is in the dark lord's hands.

He looks at me with a cool appraising gaze, and then I feel his fingers under my chin, forcing it up. I do not resist, but I know what he is trying to do, and I reinforce the occulemency shields in my mind, clearing my mind of all emotions. Indeed, as soon as his eyes meet mine, I can feel his probing inside my mind, trying to find any shreds of evidence that I was lying. I carefully push to the forefront my memories of the time when I was still a loyal death eater, before I had gone to Dumbledore, allowing the dark lord to feel the sense of excitement, joy and loyalty I had felt towards him in those times. I know I am walking a very thin line. If I present to the dark lord only a blank mind, or if I refuse him entry completely, he would know I was trying to thwart him, and would demand that I stop, or else would get suspicious of what I was trying to hide. If I let him get too far into my mind, it would be even more disastrous, as he would have a clear view of my true loyalties. So, I had to play this game just right, allowing him to see what I wanted him to, and barricading all else. It is a skill I have developed through the years.

After a while, I feel his probe leave my mind, and I almost sigh with relief as he lets go of my chin and walks a distance away.

"It appears that what you have said is true. I am willing, for the moment, to accept you back in my ranks and to give you a second chance to prove your loyalties. But know, Severus, that Voldemort does not forgive, nor does he forget." The dark lord says after a while.

"Thank you my lord. You are indeed merciful. I shall not fail you" I bow deeply before him and make to move away, when his voice once again rings out, freezing me in my tracks.

"I am not yet finished. I am willing to look over the mistakes you have committed, but I cannot let them go _unpunished. _Bind him!"

I stand rooted to the spot, as several death eaters move towards me and shove me against the trunk of a dead tree. Instinctively, I try to struggle against them, knowing all the while that it is hopeless. One look from the dark lord is enough to stop even my feeble attempts, and I curse myself mentally for having resisted even a bit. The dark lord does not like his followers to go against him, it would have angered him even more to see me trying to fight against his orders, when I should have given myself in quietly. But I could not help it, it was not easy to let myself be bound without putting up a struggle. Still, I attempt to stay still as one of the death eaters conjures up ropes to tie me tightly to the tree.

"Remove his shirt." It takes all of my will power to stay still, as the death eaters move to comply. I stand shivering in the cold night breeze, my heart pounding wildly, horrible images flitting through my head as I think of what was to happen to me. Somehow I manage to keep my face calm, composed, a stark contrast with the chaos taking place inside my heart.

The death eaters move back, and the dark lord takes their place. He is playing with something in his hands, but I cannot see what it is as my eyes are lowered in an attempt to rectify my previous mistake by pretending a humble acceptance of his punishment.

"I am sure you are wondering what punishment lies in store for you." I hear the silky voice say. "I have decided to give you a …reminder…to help you remember where your true loyalties are."

Trying to prevent the apprehension from showing on my face, I look up at him, and what I see in his hands only serves to make my heart beat faster. In his hand is a small knife, which from the looks of it has been enchanted to make it red-hot.

He smiles cruelly at the spark of fear in my eyes, then continues, "It seems that the dark mark on your arm is not sufficient to bind you to me. Why don't I give you an even bigger reminder?"

Without warning, he moves towards me, and slams the hot knife in to my chest. Hot agony flows through my veins, as the knife burns my skin. My body spasms and I clench my teeth tightly together. I am aware of the dark lord moving the knife slowly downwards, cutting my skin, sending waves of pain up my body. Then the movement stops. Through my pain-filled haze enveloping my mind I hear the dark lord's voice. "Why, does that hurt? You see, I only wish to _carve_ into you a reminder of whom you belong to, who is your true master"

He smiles coldly, as he sees understanding flicker in my eyes. He was planning to carve the dark mark into my chest, the hot knife, besides increasing the pain would ensure that the wound would scar. A permanent mark of my loyalty embedded in my very skin, not unlike the dark mark, but bigger and more painful. The very thought sickens me.

He once again starts dragging the knife down, slowly, creating a cut deep enough to cause pain and permanent scarring yet not so deep as to cause serious damage. It would be no fun if I died so soon during the torture, would it? I still had my use.

These thoughts all but flee from my mind as the horrible pain continues to course through my chest. My very veins seem to be on fire. I close my eyes and clench my fist, but I cannot shut out the agony pounding through my body. Nor can I shout out the laughs and jeers of the other death eaters as they watch my pain. I bite my lower lip refusing to let out any sound that would only give them greater pleasure. I do not wish to break in front of them, but it is hard to maintain my silence as the horrible, burning pain only increases more and more with every cut the dark lord makes. I am sure my chest is a mess of red by now. I can feel my blood oozing out of the wounds.

Suddenly, I let out a low moan of pain as a sudden spasm of agony reaches me. The laughter of the crowd gets louder. Angry at myself, I pray to anyone who may be listening to end the pain. Let it be over. I cannot endure it much longer.

As if on cue, the knife is suddenly removed, and I sag forward in my bonds, glad that at least the worst is over. My whole body aches, my chest is on fire, my wrists rubbed raw from friction with the ropes during my struggles.

"Remember, Severus," I hear the voice again. "I do not forgive and I do not forget."

A/N: Well, that's it for now. Hope you enjoyed it! There should be one more chapter to go before the end! Please leave a review!


	4. Redemption

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Chapter 4: Redemption

The grounds were eerily quiet when I came back, a sharp contrast from the chaos that had been taking place when I had left. It seemed that the students and spectators to the disastrous third task had been sent off, the stands were left empty. I was glad that there was no one there to see me in this condition or badger me with stupid questions about what had happened. I had no energy or desire to do anything except go to my rooms and fall into a long sleep. But before I could do that, I had one more duty to take care of.

Hobbling forward as fast as I could, I made for the stairs leading to Dumbledore's office, winicng as every step send tremors of pain throughout my abused and aching body. My chest wounds were still oozing out blood slowly and the cold night air had stung them terribly.

'Lemon drops' I whispered in a horse voice once I reached the entrance to Dumbledore's office and the gargoyle immediately leapt aside. My throat felt raw too, a quite unsurprising ailment considering how long I had just spent screaming. The dark lord had not been pleased that he was unable to hear any initial screams from his prisoner, so he had used the Crucio curse again and again until I had finally screamed long and hard enough to satisfy him. The rest of my body too was throbbing with the aftermath of the Cruciatus curse.

I had just raised my hand to knock on Dumbledore's door, when it swung open. He must have been waiting up for me then, waiting to see if I would return or not. Ignoring the mixture of relief and shock on his face, I moved past him and collapsed on the couch nearest to the door, my strength finally giving out. My body cried for the sweet escape of sleep, but I forced my eyes to remain open, for just a little while more.

Dumbledore moved over to the couch, kneeling next to me, his eyes moving quickly to assess the damage done to me. He must have known that even if I returned, it would not be unscathed, and yet he still looked shaken by the wounds and bruises that covered my body.

"What did he do to you, Severus?" he asked in a whisper.

"Oh, nothing at all! He was very glad to see me, gave me a big hug and made me a friendship bracelet." I retorted sarcastically. I knew Dumbledore would not take offence. He had dealt with me often enough to know that sarcasm was just the shield I hid behind to hide my true feelings, the front I put up that kept me from breaking down completely, the only thing that kept me alive.

Sure enough, there was no reaction from Dumbledore, except for perhaps an intensifying of the ever-present twinkle in his eye.

"It is good to see you still retain your sense of humour." He muttered, before turning serious again. "But tell me Severus, seriously. I do not want to keep you awake any longer than I have to, but I must know what happened."

Sighing to myself, even though this was no different from what I expected, I launched into my story, telling him everything that had taken place since I had left Hogwarts. He listened to me without interruption, his clear blue eyes giving no indication of what he was thinking. When I reached the part of the 'branding', I hesitated. I did not want him to know the nature of the cuts on my chest. The blood obscuring them ensured that he could not, for now, discern the crude pattern they formed, and I wished for it to remain that way. The thought of being once-again branded as one of his servants sickened me more than the pain, and I did not want to reveal my shame to anyone, not even him.

Leaving out the details of the torture, I continued with the rest of the account. When I had finished, I waited expectantly for Dumbledore's response. However, he seemed more immediately concerned with treating me. Taking out his wand, he directed it towards my chest and muttered the words of the healing charm. The cuts remained unchanged. Frowning, he tried it again but there was no change.

"Do you not think I have already tried doing that myself?" I said in a tired voice before he could try it again a third time. "He has put a spell on them to make them impervious to any kind of healing charms or potions. They will heal on their own, the muggle way."  
I could see that Dumbledore understood the hidden implications of the dark lord's charm. Instead of being cured magically in an instant, the cuts would heal slowly, and painfully.

Dumbledore eyes reflected his sorrow for a moment before he moved away, and returned with a cloth and a bowl of water. Seeing his intention, I stood up quickly, ignoring the sudden dizziness that came and said, "No, Dumbledore, I will take care of it myself. I do not need you fussing over me like a mother hen." In reality, I did not want him to get a closer look at my wounds.

"Severus." The hard tone in Dumbledore's voice stopped me in my tracks. "Do we have to do this every time? Those wounds need to be looked at and I have neither the time nor the energy to spend 3 hours battling with you about it."

I looked up at him, and saw the tiredness lining his face. He suddenly seemed older and more vulnerable, and I remembered that he had probably had a horrible time this evening as well dealing with the aftermath of the tragic third task. Knowing that further argument was futile, I conceded defeat with a slight nod, and lay back on the couch bracing myself for what was to come. I suppose I should have been grateful that Dumbledore had not marched me off to Mdm. Pomfrey and at least was discreet enough to take care of me himself.

I tensed slightly as Dumbeldore starting washing away the blood from my chest. I am sure Dumbledore noticed the movement, but he ignored it as he continued washing out the cuts. He was trying to be gentle, but his movements still caused the pain to flare. Once all the blood had been removed the design carved out on my skin stood out even sharper, the red lines a stark contrast with my pale skin.

I heard Dumbledore's sharp intake of breath, as what he had thought at first to just be random cuts took on a familiar shape. The design was not as clear as the burnt into my arm, but it was still possible to make out the crude shape of the skull and the snake.

"Severus! This is the dark mark!"

I closed my eyes, as what I had wanted to conceal was finally revealed. "I know. The dark lord decided that I needed a…physical… reminder of whom my loyalty should be to."

Dumbledore was silent for a while, still staring at the mark. Then he shook his head and said simply, "I'm sorry, Severus."

"It matters not." I replied in an equally quiet voice. "I have had his brand on my arm for so many years already. Does it matter if I have another one, another reminder of who owns me, another mark of my servitude?"

"Severus, having his mark on your arm does not make you his. Neither your body, nor your will, nor your soul can so easily become another. It is yours, no one can own it but you. You decide your own path. Surely these last few years have taught you that."

I laughed, the sound hollow and mirthless. "Surely you jest, Dumbledore? It has been a long time since I had any measure of control over my life. All my life I have moved to the wills of others, and these past few years have only strengthened that conviction. Yes, I decided to betray the Dark Lord. But has that gained me my freedom? Am I not still bound by my duties, now not only to one but two masters? Was I not forced to return tonight, called back by the dark mark, a summons I had no choice but to obey? The dark mark has haunted me ever since I got it, Dumbledore. I cannot get rid of it, nor can I so easily escape from its influence. Every step I take, every choice I make will be tainted by it, there is no escape.

"Severus…"

"No, Dumbledore!" I interrupted, suddenly inexplicably angry. "Don't try to deny the truth, you cannot protect from reality like you protect the students of this school. I know the truth, I feel it, I see it in the eyes of everyone around me. I will never be one of them, how could I be, I am marked as his. Nothing will change that. It matters not what I do for the Order, I cannot redeem myself. This mark reminds me every single moment of the day of the mistakes I made, of the path I choose to do, of all the horrible things I did. I cannot redeem myself, Dumbledore, not in their eyes, not in my eyes. Today was just another reminder of my fate, my perpetual, inescapable bond."  
I lay back down, utterly exhausted by my outburst. I had not meant to breakdown like that, but the stress of taking up my death eater mantle again had gotten to me. It was a little while before I heard Dumbledore's voice again, his tone calm, seemingly unaffected by my anger.

"Severus, I will not try and deny anything that you have said, or give you false assurances. But don't you see, this is why we have to fight Voldemort, this is why I need you to do this. We have to defeat him, for our sake, for your sake."

"I know." I replied in barely a whisper. "That is why I have taken this burden upon me. That is the only thought that allows me keep playing this part, to endure…everything. It is the only thing that keeps me alive, the hope of victory, of redemption."

* * *

Later that night, once again alone in his office, Dumbledore smiled sadly as he thought over his conversation with Snape. For a little while there he had been able to reach out to the real Severus Snape, to get behind the defences he placed around himself. But he knew that the shields would be back in the morning, there would once again be a surly, sour professor terrorizing the students by his mere presence, and Severus Snape would once again have been locked up inside, alone and unthanked.A/N: Well that's the end of this little dedication to my favourite character in the series. I think I got a little too emotional over this last chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same! Thanks for reading, and review please!  
fire-forged 


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